


Try To Love Me And I'll Try To Save You

by tyjish



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Anxiety, Cutting, Depression, F/M, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mental Institutions, Panic Attacks, Psychosis, Schizophrenia, Self-Harm, Triggers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-09-08 06:14:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8833534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tyjish/pseuds/tyjish
Summary: "Do you ever see him, Tyler?" she asks with caution but still curiosity.I nod."Where do you see him? In your dreams? In real life?""In you," I whisper.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write this for a little while but school got in the way of me finding time to write. I'm on winter break now, though so I'm back. I hope this story doesn't suck too bad.
> 
> The tags contain all of the possible triggers for this story. Please read at your own risk.

I walk through the dark dingy hallways of hell. My footsteps make no noise as food doesn't seem to be on agreeing terms with me. A hostile hand is placed on my shoulder, leading me through the dismal building. My mind is dead. Or so I assume. Perhaps better wording would be 'dormant', but its wrath will surely be flared by the oncoming horrors I am to meet at the end of this hallway. The hand now cautiously slips to my back, as it seems the growing pace of my rapidly beating hard has made me twitch without control. What is it he thinks I'll do? Snap his neck? Is that the kind of people of this institution? I'm surely not fitting of them. I can't be.

My dim thoughts have distracted me from the subtle stop we make outside a mysterious door. I sense my guide's eyes burning a stare into mine, but I dare not look up. I haven't looked anyone in the eyes since the day being the reason I'm here today. 

He shakes his head in seeming doubt as he opens the door. I squint and shield my eyes from the sudden brightness emerging from the room. I falter back a few steps, but I quickly feel an irritated hand pulling me into the blinding room. I hear the creak of chair legs screech across the floor, and an additional hand taken to my shoulder to sit me down. I hear murmuring of a normal volume between two people, a man and a woman, however I can't seem to understand, or for that matter see them. 

A movement of footsteps heads towards the door and shuts it quietly. My eyes are still shut as I attempt to comprehend where I am exactly. Perhaps this is a form of torture. A blinding mechanism where I can't see what's coming. Oh I dearly hope that's it. Please just begin though. The suspense in waiting for pain is much worse than the pain itself. 

But I receive none, instead my eyes adjust to the vividness of the room. I slowly open my eyes wider, as I peer around the room to examine my surroundings. The place is rather.. colorful. Not of a rainbow of sorts but more of.. joyfully colorful. The walls are but a bland white shade, but there's some presence amongst the room that makes it almost pleasurable to be in. But I quickly turn my attention back to where I'm sitting. 

I look down at my hands nervously folded and twitching uncontrollably. I'm seated on a cheap metal chair, the only item in here that doesn't offer any sort of positive feeling. Probably because I'm sitting in it. In front of me is a wooden desk, covered in neatly stacked folders and paperwork. Opposite me, on the other side of the desk is a figure. It's a woman. She wears a white coat, underneath is a bright blue shirt. I try to study her features without meeting her eyes. She has beautiful fair skin, bright blonde hair. So pure it is. Not a speck of brown to be seen. Almost a white color. Her eyes from what I can quickly catch are a bright shade of blue. It matches her shirt. Everything about her appears to be that of a regular woman, however there's one thing odd about her. She carries a genuine smile, as though she wants to be here. Who would want to be here? Who enjoys talking to crazy and mentally deluded people? Probably someone of that same category. She seems relatively sane to me, though. 

My examination is interrupted by an innocent giggle, followed by a wider smile.

"I get it. Checking to make sure I'm safe," she starts with a wink. 

Her voice is so lively, yet at the same time so comforting and soft. 

"I'm Dr. Black. Hopefully a friend to you eventually," she continues with an outstretched hand.

How I so greatly want to shake it but it appears my body from my neck down is paralyzed. I simply sacrifice a faint fake smile and nod. 

Her smile still gets wider, to the point where her eyes squint shut. I close my eyes as I can't bear to be reminded. I can't afford to weep in front of her. She mustn't carry any pity for me. 

She must sense my discomfort as she begins to speak with a softer more careful tone.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Joseph. I understand after what you've been through it will be difficult to find the right words to express how you feel or tell your story. So I'm going to ask you just a few questions where you'll answer 'yes' with a nod, and 'no' with a shake of your head. Can you do that for me?"

I begin to shake more but somehow manage a nod.

"Very good," she says with joy returned to her voice. "These won't be very difficult. This is just to confirm your file personally with you."

I nod again in trust that this is all these questions will be. My eyes are still closed shut.

"Alrighty. Your name is Tyler Robert Joseph, correct?"

I nod in agreement. 

"Your date of birth is December 1st of the year 1988."

I nod again. This is easier than I assumed.

"You have 2 brothers and a sister, as well?"

I nod.

She frowns slightly, taking a brief pause. 

"Umm... in the past... you've dealt before with... depression?"

The questions are getting harder. I still nod. 

"You were previously... in a band called Twenty One Pilots," she says more hesitantly.

My heartbeat picks up again. I should've known these would be in the file. I still manage to nod in confirmation.

"This was your primary profession? A singer, pianist, and songwriter for the band?"

I take a deep breath and confirm.

"You were associated with the band's drummer, Joshua William Dun?" 

'Were'. That word, 'were'. That damned word of the past. He's not of the past. He's not a memory to be remembered. He's always with me. 

My eyes squeeze tighter shut. They're watery but I can't let her see me cry. I nod quickly a few times, trying to shake away my thoughts. 

"Hey listen to me," she says comfortingly, "It's ok, Tyler. It's ok to cry. It's good to let it out. Please don't feel like you can't."

I shake my head rapidly, eyes still shut. No matter my attempts I still feel a tear escape my eyelid and fall down my cheek. I curse myself. 

"No," I choke out silently. A thousand thoughts are racing through my mind. I can barely let out a single word.

"Tyler, yes. Yes you can," she says again.

I desperately want to believe her. 

But I can't. I deserve to have my emotions locked up. I deserve to be tortured alone. I only am meant to be a burden to myself. No one else. It's supposed to be that way. Suffering and pain is my gain. 

"Suffering and pain.. is my gain," the words fall out of my lips without control. 

"I'm sorry, what was that?" she asks confused.

I seal my lips shut my somehow the words escape again.

"Suffering and pain is my gain," I say louder.

What is happening? I can't control what's coming out of my mouth.

"Tyler, dear, it's not. Suffering and pain is no one's gain. No one deserves either of those," she says trying to calm me.

"Suffering and pain is my gain," I still repeat.

I look at her in confusion and desperation. I don't know what's happening. My thoughts are pouring out of my mouth with no control. I try to voice 'help', but only the same 6 words are allowed to leave.

"Suffering and pain is my gain."

"Suffering and pain is my gain!"

"SUFFERING AND PAIN IS MY GAIN!"

I rise out of my seat terrified. I slam my fists onto her desk, staring her dead in the eyes with pure fear. 

"SUFFERING AND PAIN IS MY GAIN!" I scream while tears flood my eyes.

The pure panic that has taken over her once bright and joyful eyes completely breaks my heart. 

I want to stop. I need to stop. I can't stop. 

I want to rip my own voice box out, just to ease her terror. 

I sink to the floor weeping in shame. I reach my skeletal hand down my throat, scratching violently at my tongue trying to reach deeper down my throat. This only makes the burning acid of my empty stomach rise and vomit out of my dry mouth. I cough it out in pain as the tears and acid boil across my face. A ringing fills my ears as I try to calm myself. But no matter my attempts the one sentence I seem to never be able to stop saying keeps spilling out in chokes and spits.

"Suffering and pain is my gain."

"Suffering and pain is my gain."

"Suffering and pain is my gain."

My face is planted to the freezing floor, my tears and vomit forming into a puddle of my despair. 

Suddenly a hand is placed on my side. I know to whom it belongs but I can't let her see me like this. I shake my head violently and cover my ears, trying to block out the words of comfort she's trying to give. 

Out of nowhere a forceful hand clasps onto my neck. I feel a cool needle slip into my skin. Suddenly a numbing sensation travels throughout my veins and I feel consciousness slipping. My eyes flash open one more time. I see the look of alarm and anxiety in Dr. Black's face. Darkness is beginning to take over all my senses. I feel nothing but one emotion that can never be numbed. Guilt.

**Author's Note:**

> Idk why but I was really nervous about posting this. I guess I'm nervous about posting anything. But if you guys don't like this I may just delete it. Idk we'll see. 
> 
> I'm open for suggestions and feedback. It's greatly appreciated.


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